


Spokesman

by Dotdotbeepdot



Series: My Storyline [13]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Burns, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Panic Attacks, Right now everything is implied bc it’s not directly mentioned until later chapters, Scars, Suspense, its happy but it’s not like directly said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:28:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21620986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dotdotbeepdot/pseuds/Dotdotbeepdot
Summary: Mike has been missing for over a month, only to come back to the manor completely different.
Relationships: Dr. Iplier/The Host, Eric Derekson/The King of FNAF
Series: My Storyline [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567675
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the theory that the night guard that Mark played in the FNAF: The Musical is the same person as the spokesman in the Special Delivery trailer.

There was a knock on the door.

Several of the egos perked up at the sound, confused. There have been no new videos put out from what Dark and Wilford had told them, nothing since the heist. 

Wilford was the one to hop up to answer it, getting in a little slap fight with Bim as he climbed over the couch. Bim whined that  _ he  _ was always the one to answer as Wilford all but skipped to the door. 

He blinked when he opened it.

“Hello,” a short,  _ very familiar _ , man in a dark suit stood in the doorway. He looked utterly exhausted, but smiled with practice. “It’s very nice to see you again, Mr. Warfstache. Can I come in.”

“Uhh,” Wilford blinked again. “Sure, sure. Mind telling me who you are, though?”

The man opened his mouth to respond— placing a hand behind his back and lifting the other as if to go into a monologue— but someone still sitting on couches interrupted him.

“Mike?” Eric jumped up and stumbled to his feet. He stopped not that far from the two older men. He swallowed harshly and stared. “Wh— where have you been?”

“Eric…” Mike’s smile faltered slightly as he caught sight of his boyfriend. He dropped both his hands to his sides and clenched them when they started to shake. He cleared his throat and shook his head, tossing back on the smile. “Eric! It’s good to see you again! It’s—“

“Mike?” Wilford jumped in. He laughed and threw an arm around the shorter man— completely ignoring the violent flinch he gave— and shook him. “Well, well! It’s been awhile! Dark and Eric have been tearing up the place trying to find you. We all figure those nasty bears and ducks ripped you to shreds!”

Mike’s face twitched slightly at the mention of the animatronics, quietly correcting Wilford that it was a chicken and not a duck. 

“Yes, sorry for being gone so long,” he laughed slightly. “I got promoted! Fazbear Entertainment came to be one day talking to me about a new job opportunity as a spokesman. Dropped all charges against me and everything!”

“You’ve been gone for— f-for over a month,” Eric choked out. He gasped and grabbed at his hair, stomping in frustration. “I-I thought you were dead! You weren’t answering any of my calls o-or Randal’s or anyone’s! What the  _ hell _ —“

“Woah, woah, Eric!” Randal got up to grab the kid, dragging Ed along to help pull him away. Eric allowed the two to drag him away as he let out a soft sob.

Mike swallowed again as he watched his boyfriend get dragged off, the two talking to him softly to calm him down. His smile was faltering— it’s not  _ supposed  _ to falter— and his hands were shaking again. He forced it back on when Bim came up to him, looking caution as he stuck out his hand.

“So uh,” they shook hands and Bim grimaced when he met his eyes. They looked even more vacant than last time he saw him. “New job, huh?”

Mike’s shoulders sagged in relief. Something he was trained for. Not dealing with boyfriends getting upset.

“Yes! Fazbear Entertainment told me I am a spokesman for their new Special Delivery pack! F-Freddy and the gang get shipped to your house for some personal fun!” He mentally cursed himself when he stuttered. He wasn’t supposed to stutter. He started rehearsing the phrase over and over under his breath.

“Okay then,” Bim pried away his hand and stared at him oddly. “Well, uhh, it’s nice to see you again! Looking sharp!”

Mike stopped repeating himself and just smiled. He was lead deeper into the manor and introduced to the new egos— apparently they got three new ones while he was gone. Dark asked if Mike was still going to be their night guard, which he answered as no. Dark wasn’t all that happy that Mike… left, so they had a long talk about it.

By the time Dark let him go, it was close to dinner. 

Right now, Mike was in his room, practicing his words carefully and watching him rehearsing in the mirror. He needed to get this right, he couldn’t afford anymore slip ups. He had to get this right for the company, they’ve done so much for him, he can’t mess this up. There was a soft knock at the door, causing him to jump.

He panted, shutting his eyes tightly. His hands were shaking again. He clenched them into fist, nails digging painfully and cutting into his palms. Another knock at the door. Mike straightened and smiled at the mirror, looking down at the bloody crescents on his hand, before heading to answer the door.

“Oh,” again, Mike’s smile faltered. Eric stood at his door. He wouldn’t look at him. “Hey babe. Come on in, I was hoping to talk to you.”

He turned back to his room and waited patiently as Eric walked in and shut the door behind him. He watched, nerves growing slowly as Eric hesitated turning around. The younger man sighed before turning around to face Mike.

“I wanted to— to, uh, talk to you too,” his eyes were shut tightly and he refused to look up. Mike walked closer to him, gently placing his arm on his. Eric flinched as soon as he touched him and hoped back. His voice trembled as he spoke up again and Mike couldn’t help but be reminded of how his voice used to sound when scared.

“I-I can’t be with you a-anymore,” Eric opened his eyes finally just in time to see Mike’s smile drop. “Y-you were gone for— for over a  _ month _ , I just… I thought you were dead, Mike.”

“Eric, no,” Mike reached out and grabbed his biceps, only for a moment before switching to his face, making him look him in the eye. “Eric please don’t do this. I’m so sorry I got— I was so busy with the new job, please don’t…” He trailed off, searching his eyes and taking a shaky breath. His training scolded him for sounding so scared, but he ignored it for the time being.

Eric pulled away, wiping away a few tears from his cheeks. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Eric took a big, shuddering inhale. “You were gone and then you come back s-so different a-and I can’t do it, I'm sorry, I-I-I just can’t—“

Mike called out his name one more time as Eric left, rushing quickly out the door and shutting it behind him. He stared at the door, his body shaking with every inhale.  _ Stop shaking,  _ his mind snapped at him, but he ignored it in favor of running his hands through his nicely gelled hair.  _ Stop shaking, stop shaking, you’re not making us look good with all the fucking shaking. _

He kneeled over and covered his mouth with a sob as his head continued to scream at him.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Mike came into the kitchen with red puffy eyes and a smile. 

He rushed into the kitchen, suit and hair hastily thrown together. Grabbing a pancake from the pile Google was working on for breakfast and making a beeline to the door. 

“Woah woah, hold on there,” Wilford appeared in front of Mike, blocking him from the door. He looked worriedly at the shorter man. “Now where are you going in such a rush? You’re a mess!”

Mike blinked a couple times, thrown off a little. He turned around to look in the mirror across from the door and walked up to it. He let out a grunt as he took in his red face. Mike prodded around his eyes, wincing at the sting it caused. That wasn’t good.

“Do you have any makeup I can borrow, Mr. Warfstache?” Mike asked as he tried fixing the few strands that escaped his hair. 

“Well, of course, but I think I’m a little too tan for you, my boy. And you know to call me Wilford.”

“Just trying to be professional…” Mike trailed off, too distracted by the fact that his hair  _ won’t stay down.  _ He was starting to stress about being late  _ and  _ unkempt. “It’s fine, It’s fine. I’m sure they have extra hair gel there. Maybe the makeup girl can help tone down the redness.” 

He turned back towards the door, abandoning the pancake he took on the table under the mirror. He was once again blocked from leaving.

“We heard about what happened with you and Eric,” Wilford sounded uncharacteristically serious. He grabbed Mike’s shoulder and squeezed it, making him look up so Wilford could see his face. “I’m sorry my boy. I know you two really liked each other. I’m sure your boss wouldn’t mind if you take a day off to deal with all this.” 

Mike’s smile—that was still fighting to stay on his face— broke as soon as he was reminded of last night. He swallowed and looked down at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them. He took a deep breath and looked back up to smile at Wilford. 

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat when his voice came out soft. “Yeah no, what happened with Eric… it’s okay. I just need to work is all… I just need to work. I’ll see you later, Mr. Warfstache.”

He twisted out of Wilford’s grip and squeezed past him to leave.

Wilford pouted as the door shut in front of him. He was worried about Mike. He was so different now, but he still seemed broken. A new kind of broken, however. He was hiding something. Something about that new job. Wilford had a bad feeling about it. 

But he shrugged. He’ll ask Mike about that later. When he gets back from work, Wilford will ask him.

He never got the chance.

Mike didn’t come back until late at night. He pressed himself against the door as soon as he entered and shut his eyes, taking short breaths. He was so,  _ so tired.  _ His boss wasn’t all that happy when he arrived, and they had a new script to work through, so it took even longer for Mike to rehearse the words and get them right. He just wanted to sleep.

“Long day I assume,” Mike jumped a mile and whipped his head off the door. Dark was standing off to the side, hands behind his back as usual and face blank. “You look like shit.”

Mike let out a breathless laugh, shutting his eyes again and resting his head behind him.  _ Stand up straight and smile. _

“Yeah,” Mike pushed himself off the door and straightened up, smiling at Dark. “I got in trouble for being a little late. But I got a new script to work on and that’s good! It talks more in detail about the deliveries and all the a-anima— all the animatronics that you subscribe to.” He mentally cursed himself for stuttering.  _ Stuttering implies something’s wrong.  _

Dark only hummed. They moved closer— not too close, but closer— and tilted their head curiously.

“I thought you hated animatronics,” they inquired, looking Mike over, watching him pale. “You used to be very vocal of your distaste for them. King was always very offended that you used to call yourself the King when in panic.”

Mike barked out a laugh. It sounded nervous to his brain and it berated him.  _ Laugh naturally. You don’t want to scare all the kids away because of your nerves. _

‘Yes, yes…” he swallowed. “I was… I had a few screws loose is all. The animatronics are all completely harmless and all rumors about them being flesh eating, killing machines is just that. Rumors.”

Dark narrowed their eyes, looking them over once more. Mike’s carefully built nervousness was starting to tumble. What were they possibly looking for? Did Mike look strange? Was it his posture? He fixed it again and cleared his throat, starting to feel uncomfortable with how long the silence dragged on.

“Sorry to end this early, Dark,” Mike started past the elder. “But I’m really tired after today and I really just want to―” 

“Michel,” Mike froze in place, mouth going dry. Dark always liked calling him by his full name to make him squirm― they did this to a lot of the egos― but recently the name made him more than just uncomfortable. “You’re limping.”

Mike turned paler than snow.

“I um,” he struggled to come up with a reason. What could he possibly say? “Yeah, I uh, I tripped on my way to work. Must’ve f― must’ve messed up my leg or something.”  _ Don’t swear around the children. _

“You’re a terrible liar, Michel,” Dark walked around him, coming to face him. Mike refused to meet their eyes. “What happened? Was it your new employers?”

“No! No no, they―”  _ Mike swallowed a scream as another shock rocketed through his body. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. He heard someone shout for them to stop as he fell to the floor.  _ “Really, Dark, I just tripped.”

Dark grabbed his arm suddenly and  _ tightly. _ Mike jerked away, breathing heavily and stumbling backwards. He stared up at Dark with obvious fear.

“Michel.”

_ “What are you doing? Are you trying to kill him? Turn that off, god, your gonna fry him! Michel, are you okay?” _

“I’m okay,” Mike replied, unaware that Dark didn’t ask if he was. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“Michel.”

_ “Come on Michel,” They pulled him up, but his feet kept slipping from the ground. Mike trembled, his muscles twitching and aching horribly. He pressed his face into his bosses chest as nausea overtook him. Soft hands grabbed his face and lifted his head. They patted his cheeks gently and brushed away some hair that fell away. “Come one Michel, you can do this. Smile for me. You can do that can’t you?” _

“Mike,” there was cold hands on his cheeks, making him flinch. He blinked a few times, the memory fading away as Dark’s frightened face appeared in front of him, aura whipping around them in their fear. “Deep breaths. Can you do that for me?”

Mike leaned into the hands and smiled, his whole body trembling as he sucked in a sharp breath.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike gets found out

Dr. Iplier groaned as he dragged himself out of bed to answer the knocking at his door. Who the fuck wanted him at this hour, who knows. But usually, someone coming by at fuck all at night means they/someone got hurt. Dr. Iplier shoved Host’s arms off him as he got up, ignoring the other’s whines, and opened the door. 

Dark stood at the door, looking more stressed than usual. They straightened when Edward answered and tighten their arms behind their back. 

“Doctor,” they began. “Sorry to bother, but Mike is hurt and I was hoping you could see what’s wrong with him.”

Edward raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know what’s wrong?”

“No. He has a limp and when I asked him about it, he panicked and passed out.”

Dr. Iplier frowned, opening his mouth again, but closed it when he heard a gasp behind him. He turned to see Host twisting in his sheets, twitching and letting out short gasps. Edward rushed over and shook Host awake from the nightmare. 

“Host, hey,” Dr. Iplier whispered, still shaking his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Wake up. Come on, you can wake up.”

Host did wake with another sharp gasp before he panted and clung to Edward’s arm. He pushed his head up from the pillows, facing the doctor.

“Take the Host with,” he panted. “Take him with to see Mike.”

Dr. Iplier gulped, not liking the bad feeling that crawled up his spine, but he nodded and helped Host to stand. He didn’t seem to tear anything in his twisting so he wasn’t bleeding, which was good. One less person to worry about. Dr. Iplier grabbed his emergency first-aid kit and the two followed Dark towards the living room, where they said they put Mike when he passed out. 

Once they arrived, Dr. Iplier took his spot in front of the couch. Mike almost looked peacefully asleep. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mike never slept peacefully, Edward would have thought that everything was fine. First thing he did was feel his pulse. It seemed a little irregular, even in his sleeping state. Odd.

“You said he had a limp,” he didn’t turn to Dark to ask the question. “Which one was it?”

“Right.”

Dr. Iplier nodded and moved to feel Mike’s leg. Nothing felt broken or twisted, but there was a bit of swelling along the limb. Edwards’s confusion only grew. He felt the other one with the same response, twitching under his fingertips. 

“He seems fine,” Dr. Iplier muttered, turning around to face the other two. “It’s hard to tell. His legs are a little swollen, but no breaks or twist. How was he acting before he passed out?”

“He was tired. I wouldn’t have guessed he was hurt before he started walking.” Dark looked between the doctor and Mike. “Why would his legs be swollen?”

“Compartment syndrome is a side effect of being shocked. Muscle damage that cause the limbs to swell up.” Host spoke up from beside Dark.

“What?” Dr. Iplier stared at his boyfriend in confusion. He was right, but why was that happening to Mike?

“The Host suggest looking under Mike’s shirt.”

Dr. Iplier gulped again for the second time in 10 minutes. He turned back to Mike and started undoing his tie and unbuttoning his suit jacket. Just doing the latter showed something new. There was something under Mike’s shirt, poking out a little and hidden by the layers. Dark helped lift Mike so that Dr. Iplier could remove the jacket and tie. Once he started to unbutton Mike’s shirt, he froze.

He could already see burns spreading across pale skin.

“Shit,” he swore softly as he revealed more burns scattered across Mike’s chest. Some were old and already scarred over, but some looked too fresh. “Jesus Christ. Fucking… he’s being shocked _.” _

“What the hell does that mean,” Dark leaned over Mike too, their aura jumping in anger or fear as they saw the burns. 

“What do you think it means? Jesus…” Dr. Iplier ran a thumb across one the burns, quickly pulling away when Mike flinched and his muscles spasmed. He let go of Mike and went for his first-aid kit, grabbing gauze and ointment.

“Are they intentional?” Dark kept their voice flat, but their aura was lashing around them in concern. “Is this because of his new employers?”

“I don’t know, Dark, but they definitely not on accident.” Dr. Iplier gestured to one of the scars as he squirted some of the ointment onto his hand. “The circular shape tells us that. My guess is it’s some sort of muscle stimulator. Whoever was doing it must’ve cranked up the power to cause this much damage.” He started rubbing the ointment on the burns, shushing Mike softly when he sucked in a sharp breath and twitched.

“As for the employers thing…” Edward glanced over at Host, hoping he had an answer. The Host only nodded. “Shit.”

“It’s  _ torture,” _ Dark sounded truly pissed now, the ringing picking up rapidly. “They are  _ torturing  _ him!”

“My guess is some kind of shock therapy―”

_ “It’s torture!” _

“Yes, Dark, we know!” Dr. Iplier snapped at the elder, still trying to keep his hand steady as he treated the burns. “You screaming about it doesn’t change the fact!”

“But  _ why  _ are they doing this to him?” they stressed, ringing still picking up. “Mike hasn’t been their employee in years. Why would they do this now?”

“Mike knows too much about Fazbear Entertainment,” Host answered for them. Both turned to look at him and Host smiled awkwardly at them as he continued. “They figured they needed someone to advertise their new product and they decide to check up on an old employee, see if he wanted to join. Mike didn’t, of course, but they weren’t taking no for an answer. They kidnapped him.”

_ “They were in our house?”  _ Dark sounded beyond pissed now. “How did they even know he was here?”

“Well, you don’t just let a man that knows all your dark secrets go without keeping an eye on him. They have a tracker in his phone.” Immediately, Dark grabbed the suit jacket off the floor to search for and destroy the phone. “That wouldn’t be a very good idea, Dark. They will send people to get Mike if the phone was destroyed.” Dark stopped and swallowed harshly, dropping the jacket once again.

“But why are they shocking him?” Edward finished covering the wounds and turned to put gauze on them.

“It’s a way to condition him. If he doesn’t want to get shocked, he just needs to do what they say.”

“That explains the extreme personality change…” he mumbled as he worked. “What can we do than? We can’t storm down there and kill them or keep Mike from going, they’ll come over.”

“The best option is to wait.” Host smiled again, shifting awkwardly on his feet. Without his trench coat, he looked rather uncomfortable.

_ “Wait!” _ Dark snapped. “We can’t just sit here and  _ wait  _ while Mike is getting hurt and people know our location!”

“Host is right… sadly,” Dr. Iplier finished bandaging Mike’s chest and started buttoning him back up. “We can’t do anything right now. Maybe when Mike wakes up we can confront him and he could help us think of something, but for now, there’s nothing we can really do, but take care of him.”

Dark glared at everything, clearly not happy with the decision. They growled and their aura lashed out for a moment, blue hunching forward and screaming while the red stayed upright and cold. Once they had calmed, they huffed and sat on the couch beside the still out cold Mike.

“Okay, I guess you’re watching over him,” Dr. Iplier pushed himself off the floor, grunting as his back popped. He glanced over at Host. “We’re going back to bed. If anything else happens or if Mike wakes up, come get us, alright?” 

Dark nodded, looking down at the former night guard and petting his mussed up hair. Edward nodded as well.

“Alright, goodnight Dark.” Dr. Iplier grabbed Host’s arm and lead him down the hall, back to their room.

Tomorrow is going to be hell.


	4. Chapter 4

“A-are you sure h-he’s going to be o-okay?”

Mike didn’t wake from nightmares like he usually did, which made him more anxious than if he did. 

What woke him was voices.

“He’s fine for now,” Dark’s was the most obvious one, Mike guessed that they were right above him as they spoke. “The doctor checked him over last night and fixed him up.”

If his head wasn’t pounding with every word and his body didn’t feel so heavy, Mike would’ve been alarmed that Dr. Iplier was fixing anything. But instead, he was just focused on the nice feeling of someone softly running their fingers through his formerly gelled back hair.

“B-b-but he’s not― shouldn't he be up by now?” Eric’s voice was even closer than Dark’s and that made him snap back into himself.

Mike’s eyes shot open and saw that his head was in  _ Eric’s _ lap, that  _ Eric _ was running trembling fingers through his hair, that  _ Eric _ looked close to breaking down. He must’ve noticed that Mike opened his eyes because he looked down at him, showing off his tear-stained face.

“O-oh God, Mike,” Eric hiccuped and another flood of tears appeared, quickly wiped away with his yellow cloth. “Mike, Mike, wh-what happened to―” he cut himself off with a sob.

Mike could feel his heartbeat stop and pick up all at once. He wanted to comfort Eric, sit up and talk to him, but he felt like that wasn’t his place. Surely, Eric was still angry at him, they were still broken up after all. The fact that he was even touching Mike right now shocked him to his core. His silence must’ve worried him more because Eric whimpered.

“Mike, c-can you― can you hear me?” Eric was clearly holding back crying. Mike wasn’t sure what he should do. He didn’t know what he could and couldn’t do now that they were apart.

“Electric shock can cause problems in hearing―”

“I’m fine,” Mike interrupted Dark, looking over at them with wide eyes. He looked in between them and Eric. “I’m fine. I… I need to go to work.” Mike’s eyes widened even more at his realization and he pushed himself off of Eric’s lap.

“Wh-what?” Eric said incredulously. Beside him, Dark’s figures spasmed. “Y-you can’t go back there. They were… they’ve―”

“Eric’s right,” Dark cut the younger man off so he didn’t break down in tears again. “You can’t go back there. We need to formulate a plan.”

“There’ll be no plan,” Mike moved to grab his tie and suit jacket off the floor. He winced when he saw how messed up the jacket had become and tried to straighten it out while he talked. “I’m  _ fine  _ and I’m―  _ shit―  _ I’m an hour late to work,  _ fuck.”  _

He gave up straightening his jacket and just threw it on. He rushed towards the door while doing his tie, ignoring Dark and Eric’s protest. Sadly, when Mike tried opening the door, it turned grey and slammed shut. His anger was starting to grow. 

“You  _ won’t  _ go back,” Dark turned him around and snarled, grip tight on Mike’s shoulders. “These people hurt you yesterday because you were a  _ few minutes  _ late. Call in and tell them you’re sick.”

“What are you talking about?” Mike smiled and tried to play dumb, even if he knew Dark knew better. He just hoped they would let it go. “You mean those scars? They’re from years ago. Never healed correctly. Can I go now?”

“Michel…” The soft threat in Dark’s voice as they said his full name made him freeze, smile twitching before falling. Their hands felt like needles in his skin, bypassing the layers and sinking deep. He wanted to push Dark away and scream. “Come back to the couch.”

“You’re not my boss anymore,” Mike protested weakly, but he wasn’t sure if he was even talking to Dark. His feet stumbled as he was led back to the living room. “You don’t write my checks, I don’t have to take this bullshit anymore.” He couldn’t breath.

“Eric, could you leave for a second?” Dark was still much too gentle with their words. Mike refused to look away from them to see if Eric followed his request. He couldn’t feel the couch underneath him as Dark sat him down. “Mike―”

“You’re not my boss,” Mike said again with more bite. “If I want to leave, I can leave. You can’t keep me here.”

_ “You can’t leave. You’re here for the long run, kid.” _

“You can leave.”

Mike stopped. He blinked back into focus― why wasn’t he in focus― and looked at Dark. Their expression was blank, nothing hiding away in their eyes or in their smile. No “gotcha” or lie. Mike was allowed to leave. He stood to do just that and was surprised when Dark showed no move to follow him.

“If you truly want to leave, go to work at Fazbear’s, then I won’t stop you,” they added on, looking up at Mike with the same,  _ honest,  _ expression. “No one is going to force you to stay here. If you  _ truly _ want to leave…”

Mike hesitated―  _ why was he hesitating? He could leave. He could go―  _ and waited for Dark to finish. When moments passed in silence, Mike still waited. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for now. His hands were starting to shake and he dug his nails into his palms to stop it. Dark glanced down at them, but  _ still  _ made no move.

“I don’t want to leave,” the words shot out of his mouth without a thought. His throat spasmed and his vision blurred. Dark’s hand came up to take hold of one of Mike’s. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Then stay here,” Mike crashed back down onto the couch and trembled. Dark pried Mike’s hand open and took hold of his bloody palm. “No one can force you to go.”

“They will,” Mike insisted, fear making his breathing pick up. “They’ll come get me. If they can’t have me, they’ll kill me. I don’t want to die, Dark, I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t.” they said simply, so confident that he would be okay. 

Mike laughed, tears threatening to spill down his face. “You say that like it’s easy. You’re risking everyone’s safety doing this, keeping me here.”

“These people know where we live. We’re at risk with them alive anyways,” Dark moved casually to pry Mike’s other hand open, a subtle grimace taking over their expression at the blood buried under his dull nails. “We’ll call a meeting. Wilford and Silver taught some of the egos awhile back how to fight and defend themselves a few years back. We’ll get them to teach some of the newer egos.”

“That won’t work,” Mike said, staring down at Dark’s hands over his. “They wouldn’t send their people. I’m their spokesman for their new product of sending animatronics to people’s houses. It’s harmless, just for a party, like clowns or magicians. But if I know Fazbear’s, their animatronics can turn deadly in seconds. And they’re  _ fast.” _

“We’ll figure out a plan.” Dark reassured. Mike sighed.

“We’re all going to die.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK this has to be the longest chapter I've ever written. Sorry the ending is not the best but damn I'm hella proud I actually got this finished. And to think this all happened before thanksgiving lmao

“You made him  _ stay?” _

“I didn’t make him do anything.”

“He’s here isn’t he? We told you that it wasn’t safe to keep him here and to  _ wake me up when he woke up.” _

“I’m up, I’m here, and it doesn’t matter,” Mike interrupted Dark and Dr. Iplier’s fight, keeping his voice firm. “We need to make a plan. Dark helped me quit over the phone, but it went too well. They’ll probably send the animatronics around night time to catch us off guard so that we stress ourselves tired during the day.”

“This is a stupid idea,” Host snapped from his spot in the meeting room. “The egos have a 50/50 chance of getting  _ killed.”  _

“And a 50/50 chance of  _ not  _ getting killed,” Mike retorted. “Now, the animatronics can’t handle electricity―”

“Why is he in charge?” Randal interrupted from where he was pacing the floor. “Shouldn’t he be hiding? Shouldn’t we all be hiding?”

“I’m the one that knows the most about Fazbear’s.” Mike tried to comfort his friend, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“That’s why we should be  _ hiding,”  _ Randal stressed. He was clearly terrified, as well as the rest of them. “You said they’re killer robots that are practically indestructible. Why the  _ hell _ are we fighting them and not running for the hills?”

“Because if we leave, they’re going to destroy the manor and we would have nowhere to go,” Dark answered, rolling their neck and tightening their hands behind their back. “You can stay with the younger egos if you don’t want to fight, Randal.”

The other looked conflicted, looking in between Dark and Mike. His eyes settled on Eric― who was just as petrified as him. “I-I mean… someone older should be with them, right? Someone to protect them if something goes wrong.”

“You’re right,” Dark agreed. “Randal, you’ll be in charge of keeping the younger egos safe. You’ll take them to the cellar and keep them there. Magnum will stand at the stairwell as an extra precaution.” The pirate easily agreed. “Good. Take them to get ready. Get things like pillows, blankets, and food. We’ll be fighting all night.”

Randal nodded, face had gone steady with his new responsibility. He started gathering the younger egos― Yan, Eric, the Jims, and King― as well as some of the older egos that had chosen not to fight― Bim and Ed― and headed towards the door. Eric and Mike shared a look before he disappeared down the hall. Mike had a brief feeling of fear of what would happen to him if the plan didn’t work. They were all counting on Mike’s plan to work, he had  _ lives  _ in his hands. If this didn’t work, they were as good as dead.

“Mike.” Dark interrupted his thoughts and reminded him of the present. 

Mike cleared his throat and shook off his fears. “Okay, like I was saying. The animatronics can’t handle electricity, so we can disable them with a strong enough shock. That won’t be a permanent solution, because these things aren’t like regular robots, but that would still give us enough time until morning and they have to go back to Fazbear’s.”

“The Host doesn't understand why the egos have to risk their lives for something like this,” Host complained. “Mike’s story ends killed by the animatronics and we are changing the script.”

“Because he’s your friend,” Dr. Iplier snapped at his boyfriend. “I know you don’t want him to die and I  _ know  _ that there’s a future where we all make it out alive.” Host’s lip curled, but he said nothing.

“We just need to prepare today,” Dark continued as if nothing happened. “Make sure to know all places of entry in the house, get materials for when they do arrive. Once we are prepared, it’s business as usual.”

“Except we’ll be in lockdown,” Wilford said, playing with the knife in his hand. He made it disappear when he met Dark’s glare. “What? We will be.”

“Yes, and it’s for everyone’s safety,” Dark told their husband firmly. They turned back to address the rest of the meeting room. “Bing and Google will get the materials with me and Mike and Host will go over all places of entry. Any questions?”

Silence.

Dark smiled. “Meeting adjourned. Everyone get to work.”

It was 3:23 pm when Bing, Google, and Dark came back with a bag of tasers and other things needed. Google had a scowl on his face as he handed Mike the materials. 

“These things are powerful enough to kill. Kill even us.” Mike took the plastic bag from the android, not once flinching like he used to.

“Then that’s powerful enough to disable the animatronics for a long time,” Mike responded with a tight lipped smile. “Did you get the gloves too?”

Bing was the one to answer. He held up his bag. “Yep! We got a pair for everyone!”

“Good. Give those out to the people who will be using the close range tasers. And  _ do not _ give a long range taser to Wilford. Close range will give people more of a warning when he’s close to them so he doesn’t fucking kill someone as a prank.” Mike heard Bing laugh at that and he smiled. At least someone found the situation funny.

By 5:48 pm, everyone was ready. They were trained with their tasers and Host had informed everyone of the entries and exits. Dark had assigned everyone a place to station themselves and a way of communicating when an animatronic was near. Mike was taken to his room with his own taser, Silver stationed outside it. Dark left with one more parting goodbye to Mike before heading to their station with Wilford.

The first animatronic came at 12:18 am.

“Jesus Christ!” Illinois scrambled to his feet as Foxy charged him from the shadows, mouth open in either a scream or for something to bite. He was quick to grab his taser and shoot it at the animatronic. Foxy froze in his steps and shut down, going limp. Illinois let out a surprised laugh and snatched up the walkie-talkie he’s been given, still keeping a close eye on Foxy. “Hey, Dark? It’s Illinois, in the garden. First animatronic hit. Some kind of fox?”

“Foxy,” Mike responded immediately, heart rate picking up dramatically.  _ They were actually here.  _ “He’s one of the fastest, but easiest to knock out. Lock yourself inside and wait until he’s awake again. He wouldn’t be able to get inside, so he should leave and find some other way to get in.”

“God, this is really happening, huh?” Illinois chuckled as he felt around behind him for the door. Once he was inside he relaxed slightly, still keeping a close eye on Foxy. He brought the walkie-talkie back up to his mouth and fixed his hat. “So do I just wait for him to wake back up or…?” 

“Another one!” Bing’s voice crackled to life as Illinois trailed off. “Another one, another one! Holy―” A electronic scream cut him off and everyone listening in held their breath in fear. 

“Bing?” Dark asked after much too long of nothing. 

Mike’s breathing started to pick up and he jumped to his feet to pace the floor. “Bing, Bing, answer me. Bing?” He was just about to knock down his bedroom door with his hands behind his head when Bing  _ finally  _ responded.

“I’m okay!” he sounded like he didn’t quite believe it. “I’m actually with the, uhh… the duck thing? They didn’t kill me for some reason.”

Mike felt his legs turn to jelly as he sighed in relief. He had his eyes shut as he replied. “Of course, shit. They won’t attack you because you're a robot. I should’ve remembered that. Bing, I want you to stay at the entrance. There’s this audio file online that actually calls the animatronics towards you. If you can get them all to you, then they won’t make their way inside.”

“No,” Google’s voice interjected before Bing could agree. “I’m n-n-not letting you get Bing kille-ed by some duck.”

“It’s a chicken and if you’re worried about him then join him,” Mike hissed into the mic, pacing the room anxiously. “The more audio tracks we have, the better.”

“And get  _ myself  _ killed―” 

“Google, just shut up and do it if you want to complain!” Mike shouted, before freezing and slapping his hand over his mouth. He prayed the animatronics had forgotten his voice. As he heard an ear piercing screeching sound of metal on glass, he knew his prayers were useless. He glanced over to the window.

Freddy stood grinning through it.

Silence edged on as the two stared at each other, Mike trying his best to stay still despite his trembling. He could hear the crackle of voices trying to get his attention but couldn’t understand a word they were saying. He could even hear Silver knocking on his door to see if he was alright. But Mike couldn’t hear any of it. He could only hear the blood rushing through his ears.

And the window slowly sliding open.

_ Why the hell is his room on the first floor?  _

“Bing, I need you to play the audio.” Mike commanded into the walkie-talkie, starting to move towards his door and away from Freddy. 

“Wait, which one? Mike―”

“Mike, what is going on.”

“Play the audio. Someone play the damn audio!” Mike couldn’t help when his volume picked because Freddy’s hand had made it through the window and he was dragging his body inside.  _ He was dragging his body inside. He was going to die. He was going to die. He was―  _ “Silver!”

Mike had unlocked the door and Silver burst through, shoving himself in between Mike and the animatronic. He lifted his taser to shoot at Freddy, but stopped when a soft, little girl’s voice echoed from outside. Freddy stopped as well. He turned his head to look out the window and the audio played again. Silence. Deadly still silence. Then, Freddy pulled his leg back out the window and followed the voice.

Mike’s legs would’ve given out if Silver didn’t have his back pressed against the door.

It was 5:38 am. Everyone was still on lockdown in the manor and the cellar was still blocked off, but most have started leaving their stations. Dark had joined Mike and Silver in Mike’s room as an added protection. Bing and Google continued to play the audio and distract the animatronics. They kept them in the front yard, Bing even acting more child-like than usual to make the animatronics perform for him.

“These guys aren’t that bad honestly,” Bing said into his walkie-talkie. “They sing and dance like fucking champs. I would totally invite these dudes over for a birthday party.”

“If you do that, I’ll dismantle you myself.” Mike hissed back. After Freddy almost got to him, Mike had gone into one of the worst panic attacks of his life. He actually passed out from how much he was panicking. Silver told him he was out for most of the night. Eric was, apparently, worried sick about him. He almost left the cellar to make sure he was okay. Right now, Mike wasn’t in the mood to think about what that means. “It’s almost 6, so just keep them distracted so Dark can corner them in Fazbear’s and fucking burn them up.”

“Actually, they’re all metal, unlike androids, so they would melt―”

“Bing…” Dark warned through the walkie-talkie and the android quickly shut up. 

Mike rubbed his forehead, willing his hands to stop shaking. Or keep shaking. His mind was battling to keep steady and calm like he was trained to or to break down like he normally would. He wondered how long it would take for him to get over the effects of the brainwashing, if he ever would. Would he forever feel the need to clench his fist to stop from shaking? Force an all too perfect smile and rehearse his words? Was his mind beyond saving this time? He wanted to laugh at the thought of his mind ever being considered saved. He lost his chance years ago.

“Mike,” he looked up to see Silver standing over him with his phone. “It’s Eric.”

He looked at the superhero oddly, but all he had as an answer was a shrug. Mike took the phone and checked the time before answering.

5:44 am.

“Hey,” Mike sighed into the phone. “What’s up? Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” Eric said. He sounded odd. Awkward almost. “S-so uhh, are― are you okay?”

“I’m fine, yeah,” Mike couldn’t help it as the awkwardness of the situation rubbed off on him. “I just… I-I had a panic attack, so I was out for awhile.”

“That doesn’t sound okay,” Eric attempted to joke. Mike gave a choked laugh that Eric copied. There was silence for a moment, broken by Eric clearing his throat. It cracked. “I-I’m really glad you are okay, though. T-That you aren’t… dead.”

“Me too. But, you know, about you.” Mike could practically see the smile on his face. The shaky, half-smile that he had when someone reminded him that they cared about him. Mike loved that smile more than he’d like to admit. The line went quiet again, but somehow, less awkward.

“Mike?” Eric’s voice cut through like a butter knife. He hummed in response. “I really mean it. I… You’ll be okay. You’re here now.”

Mike couldn’t help, but smile at Eric’s words. “And I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

They traded goodbyes and hung up. Mike looked at the time once more.

6: 06 am.


End file.
